The foot falls of a black ant
On the black marble
On an Ebony night
Is too faint to hear.
The sound of the canon
Aimed at the heart of a city
Of, course is better audible.
The explosive sound of a bomb
That annihilates the innocent people
Is of a moderate pitch.
The unleashed agony of the head
Separating from torso on the gallows
Is of a higher order.
The cursive sound of the letters
On a white paper
Is considerably high.
The thumping of the heart
Of an injured Poet
Is of a higher order.
The collective cries of
Crows and common Swallows
Is of the highest order.
The ruffle of scared pigeons
Unnerves us more than the
The twang of a hunter’s bowstring.
Once you make your voice count
Even the guts of an arrow shall shake.
.
Wahed Abd
Telugu
Indian
From “Dhuuli Chettu” Anthology

Photo Courtesy: Abd Wahed
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